


Hurt

by jeejaschocolate



Category: Persona 5
Genre: Description of Injuries, Explicit Sexual Content, Father/Son Incest, Goro is an emotional wreck, Graphic Description, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Oral Sex, Papaake Week 2021, Sexual Dysfunction, Situational Humiliation, mentions of killing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-18
Updated: 2021-02-18
Packaged: 2021-03-12 20:48:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,515
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29515575
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jeejaschocolate/pseuds/jeejaschocolate
Summary: Akechi gets hurt during a mission in Mementos. He’s having a tough time getting up and getting himself home.Fortunately, Shido always works way too late.
Relationships: Akechi Goro/Shido Masayoshi
Kudos: 32
Collections: Papaake Week 2021





	Hurt

**Author's Note:**

> Hey guys! This is for Day 5 of papaake week, the prompt was "wounds." And yeah, this is a very Jeeja-brand shiake fic lol. I'm sure you guys know what you're getting into ;) 
> 
> **TW: Read the tags. There is significant mention of Genetic Sexual Attraction syndrome (the idea that family members who were estranged in their childhood will feel sexual attraction to each other in their adult years). And it's father/son incest. I'm not going to say the dove is dead, but you still probably shouldn't eat it!**

The thing about metacognitive injuries is.

“Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck…” 

Goro dashes up the subway stairs at the first exit he can find. He’s travelled so far down, criss-crossing all over the subway tracks, past the coherency point, and he has no idea where he is. Mementos is hell like that. You can travel on and on forever in the ever-changing floors, losing track of where you are in relation to the world above ground. The real world. 

“Fuck…shit…” Goro pants heavily, black mask outfit disappearing and fading back into his summer uniform. He’s back. He made it. 

He’s alive. 

But the night is disorienting. His head is spinning. Knees wobbling, he falls to the ground. Nausea clutches his chest and the pain from his wounds sears his real-world flesh. 

The thing about metacognitive injuries is this: They’re not real. Not _really_. The wounds you sustain in the metacognitive world are theoretical, like a story playing out before your eyes. A video game. Where your body is a movable character on a chess board. Because of this, you’re able to take a hit from a sword bigger than your body slashing across your face. It knocks you down but you get back up.

Sometimes. 

Sometimes, you get back up. Other times, it fucks with your head. The things you feel in that world…they _feel_ real. You’re not literally getting poisoned or cursed or insta-killed by a beam of heavenly light stronger than the force of an atomic bomb, but…it _feels_ like it. The pain is as strong as your body can imagine. If you’re used to feeling pain, if your pain threshold is high due to a life spent sustaining injury after senseless injury, then. It actually hurts you in the metacognitive world. Your perception will always work against you. 

Goro is, of course, one of those people. He’s had more broken bones in his life than he can count (due to supreme lack of supervision as a child, compounded upon a host of ‘families’ whose so-called supervision was in fact the root of the problem). He’s been cold, hungry, destitute. To say nothing of the maze of torture that exists inside his own mind. The baseline level of psychic pain he withstands on the daily. 

Goro’s perception of pain knows no bounds, and thus. He gets his ass handed to him in the metacognitive world sometimes. 

Not often. 

Tonight is one of those times. 

It was supposed to be a routine mission! Yesterday he uncovered the location of the subway conductor’s shadow, so tonight was supposed to be the easy part! Recon in Mementos is such a pain in the ass, how could holding a gun to some guy’s head and pulling the trigger ever compare? It’s simple. So simple. 

“Fucking…shadows…!” He presses a hand to his throbbing head and clenches a fist against his stomach. Fighting the urge to vomit. 

The shadows were strong tonight. Boosted by the early-summer beautiful weather. Unimpeded by status effects. Goro didn’t even make it to the conductor’s location. He was ambushed by a pack of Ose, pissed off tigers with dual sabres. There were three of them. Goro used all his moves, but he didn’t stand a chance.

He’s weak. 

He’s still so weak. Even after years of doing this. Going into the metacognitive world on missions. Goro is still fucking weak. 

He runs a hand down his face and winces. Shit. His lip is split open. Swollen and bleeding. 

Here’s the other thing about metacognitive injuries: Even though they are fake, sometimes they transcend the subconscious. It’s not a one-to-one ratio; you won’t actually get your head cut off or anything. But you might get a treacherous bruise on your neck that’ll be sore for days.

There’s no science to go with the pscience on this. Research says something about the morphogenetic field and quantum physicality and such and such. Whatever. The thing Goro can say for sure: Getting beat up in the metacognitive world really hurts. 

It hurts bad. 

He’s having some trouble breathing. His chest got slashed up and now he can feel a myriad of bruises blossoming across his skin. He doesn’t think he broke any ribs, but it hurts like hell to breath. 

He needs a minute. 

Blinking, fighting dizziness and trying to focus his vision, Goro takes in his surroundings. He wound up…where? 

There’s a large shopping mall in the distance. In his immediate vicinity are nothing but trees, a few expensive-looking houses, and a long stretch of road. 

A red “E” shines in the yellow light of a lamppost. The Oedo Line. 

Goro exited Mementos through a subway entrance somewhere in Roppongi. 

Wow, he travelled pretty far. His apartment is all the way on the other side of town. To get home, he’ll need to get back into the subway—

The thought sends a shiver down his spine. He just got the hell out of there! Running at full speed from a pack of rabid, tall-as-fuck tigers, through a mess of black and red train tracks that curve up in a nightmarish way, the clinking chains of the Reaper echoing in his ears—

Maybe not the subway then. He’ll take a cab instead. 

Do any cabs come to Roppongi in the middle of the night? Hands shaking, knuckles bleeding (he had to throw a few punches back there, meeting meaty jaws of fur and clenches fangs), Goro checks his phone. It’s past midnight. So, not likely. Maybe he’ll call a ride share…as soon as he opens the app, it tells him the nearest driver is forty minutes away. Forty minutes?! What the hell kind of town is this? 

He’s fucked.

On top of that, another lurch of nausea threatens to overtake him. The cement is swaying underneath him, somehow. The streetlight’s glare is making him sick. The edges of his vision throb a fuzzy, tangy orange color. Did he get hit in the head? Is this the aftermath of a concussion? He feels sleepy.

Well. It wouldn’t be the first time he worked through a concussion in exactly the wrong way. Probably won’t be the last. 

Resigning himself to his fate, Goro leans against the cement shelter of the subway entrance. He’s facing the road. So if a cab comes this way he’ll try to hail it. If not, then. He’ll just spend the night out here. Like a bum. Like one of society’s outcasts with nowhere better to go. 

Smiling through bloody teeth, Goro spits some blood onto the ground. 

Again, it wouldn’t be the first time. Sleeping on the street is almost nostalgic to him at this point. Reminds him of the days before he was anyone. Before his life got so very exciting. Before he met Shido. 

At the very least, Shido won’t have to know about Goro’s little fuck-up tonight. He’ll text Shido and tell him the palace conditions were not advantageous tonight so he’ll try again when it’s raining or something. Shido actually doesn’t know shit about palaces (he did the job of burning all the research himself) so the excuse will probably fly. 

Ultimately, Shido’s whole plan to become prime minister hinges on Goro’s success. Although Shido is the one with the all the power in this boss-employee relationship of theirs (or is master-apprentice? Does Shido think he’s training Goro in the cloak and dagger world of politics? Maybe. If he’s bought Goro’s bullshit up to this point, then there’s a good chance that’s exactly what he thinks), Goro is…

Goro is the one with the ability to get things done. Shido would be helpless without him! Who else can go into the metaverse and kill all those people, making sure the dominos fall into place for Shido? No one! 

Goro chuckles to himself and rests his head on the cold concrete. 

No one, no one. 

Shido is so damn lucky to have him! He’s lucky that he fucked that prostitute all those years ago and created an illegitimate bastard he didn’t even want! He’s lucky that Goro’s power manifested at exactly the right time, that Goro was smart enough to offer his services and bail him out. He’s lucky that Goro is fucked up enough to want to do this. To be able to do this. This insane job Shido has for him.

Goro chuckles and fights with his body. His eyes keep trying to roll back into his head. He chuckles and chuckles, nodding his head over and over again into the empty night. He loses the battle against his eyes and now he can’t see anything except the inside of his own head.

Shido is so fucking lucky to have Goro. He really is. That asshole. He’s lucky Goro wants to destroy him in his own special way. That Goro would risk everything—his own life!—to make Shido succeed, if only to crush him at the end with the tumultuous ties that bind them. Give him an ending that’s just for them. Their own shared personal hell. 

“Congratulations, you bastard…” Goro mumbles to the warm midnight air. “You’re a father.” 

That’s pretty funny. It’s seventeen years too late but it’s funny. 

Goro feels sick. His whole body hurts and he’s about to pass out. 

He never wants Shido to see him like this. Ever. Goro never wants Shido to see him being weak. He doesn’t want to put those thoughts in Shido’s head. Because once they’re there…who knows what Shido might do. 

Shido is a predictable shithead, mostly. Mostly he is.

But sometimes he’s not. 

There was the time Shido called him out of the blue to tell him to kill a whole group of tourists. Because they happened to see one of his lackeys eating lunch with a shady-looking guy in an open-air restaurant, and Shido was worried the guy might have used his real name by mistake. So he told Goro to kill everyone, the lackey and the bystanders. 

Shido is a paranoid fuck. His paranoia is what makes him unpredictable. He nurses his fears until they grow so large he doesn’t know what to do except play his trump card (which is: Goro). 

Fortunately, Goro was able to talk him out of that one. Killing people indiscriminately like that is a bad showing. They need to be strategic with their metacognitive killings. Shido himself is a master strategist, but he lets his paranoia get the better of him when he’s not careful. 

Goro—an expert at knowing what Shido might do and for which reasons—knows better than to try his own luck against Shido’s psychosis. He can’t let himself be weak in front of that man for fear of what he might do. Will he see him as a liability? Will he have the Cleaner take care of him? Will he punish him in some unforeseeable way using the myriad of resources at his disposal…? 

Or would he…? 

Once, Shido looked at him with worried eyes. He was pissed off, in his way (this man is always slightly pissed off even on the best of days). But when he saw that Goro was sneezing and coughing underneath a courtesy face mask, Shido’s face was more than pissed. His left eyebrow turned down in the middle just a fraction, barely perceptible. Definitely there, though. His eyebrow turned down and he looked at Goro with his full attention. His full face. Not eyeing him over the top of a tablet, or glancing at him while he stares down a room full of sycophants. No, Shido was looking at Goro and his mouth formed a straight line. Lips curled in. 

“Go home, Akechi,” he barked. “You’re sick.” 

“I’m fine, Shido-san. It’s just a cold. I’ll get over it.” Goro isn’t one for taking time off, especially for inconsequential things. 

Shido narrowed his eyes. “You heard what I said. Go. Home.” 

Directions like that, who could refuse?! Goro bowed his way out of the office and marched himself straight home. Confused. Bewildered. Was he in trouble? Or was Shido actually…? 

His eyes were worried. Even though his words were cold. 

Goro thinks about those worried eyes a lot. Far too much, really. He thinks about the slight downward tilt of his father’s left eyebrow and his stomach gets all tied up in knots. His hands become sweaty and his heart starts racing. Galloping. A storm of bees kicks to life inside of him and Goro is suddenly too anxious to keep still. He needs to move, to work, to run, to do something! He starts breathing too heavily and he needs to get a cold drink of water. Or something. 

It was just a passing glance of Shido’s. It wasn’t anything! It doesn’t mean anything. And Shido is true scum, so who cares about his mood or passing fancies or anything like that?! 

Goro doesn’t care. He’s over all that. The childish wishes. The wants. Pathetic. So, so pathetic. He doesn’t care. 

But sometimes he thinks about Shido’s concerned face and he just…

There on the street, Goro hugs himself tightly. He buries his fingers in the loose material of his uniform shirt and he tries to keep himself grounded. He can’t start thinking about stuff like that right now. After he just got the shit kicked out of him and he can’t even see straight. If he thinks about that now…

His nose burns. A dry stinging pain surfaces in the corners of his eyes. 

No. No he won’t! Not here, not like this! He won’t! He’d rather die! 

His hangs his head low, hiding his face from the buzzing cicadas all around him. He won’t show himself. He won’t feel this. He won’t feel anything. 

Fuck Shido. Fuck all of this. Fuck Mementos, fuck society. Fuck that pack of Ose and fuck the train conductor too! 

Fuck them all. Goro has everything he needs in his arms right now. 

Himself. 

_______________________

The future prime minister of Japan sits in the back of his town car and quietly broods. 

Tokyo is so lackluster this time of year. There is a part of Shido that loves his country and loves this city. That part still exists, even after all these years where he’s seen the true heart of society. The ugliness. This world is a complete mess, a total wreck. Although Shido still loves Japan in some way. That love is the reason he wants to save Japan by being the person at the top. The one who steers them all clear of the wreckage. (At least, the important people.) 

But. 

He also hates this fucking place. These people. The scum on the streets. The sheep and the hangers-on. The people living one day to the next, just trying to survive. No vision for the future, no wishes to speak of. People like that are dead weights, useful for nothing except stepping stones on Shido’s meteoric rise to the top. 

Shido really hates the clamoring masses. 

Which is why he likes living in Roppongi. It’s much quieter here. Everything is more spaced out. Only people that can afford the best buy property here. Or they rent high-rise lofts, like Shido does. He is proud he’s worked hard enough to afford a place like the one he lives in. But even so…

This time of year, when the weather gets warmer, most people stay holed up inside their homes with the air conditioning blasting. The world outside feels dingy and slow. It’s hot. As a boy, Shido liked the heat. He remembers a youth spent playing in the countryside. Frolicking with friends in the languid heat until it was too dark to see anymore. 

That was a long, long time ago. Far away from here. 

Shido sighs and looks out the window. Tokyo is nothing special. Once he becomes prime minister, this city will become his permanent residence. So then. 

Whatever. The only thing that matters is getting there. From the top looking down, everything will make sense. Shido has worked his entire life to get to this point. He’s done everything in his power and then some, promptly exceeding even his own expectations and pushing further. He’s done it all. 

He’s so close. 

He just has to bide his time a little longer. Make sure that every last thing is in place. As it should be. Why else would Shido be working this late on a Wednesday? It’s past midnight and he’s just going home now. The rest of this town is asleep. Shido just finished his work for the day. Tying up loose ends. Sending emails, making calls, going about the quiet business of making the world run properly. 

It’s not an easy job. But Shido works like his life depends on it. Because it basically does. Honestly, he wouldn’t have it any other way! 

He takes off his glasses and rubs his eyes, rocking with the motion of the vehicle as it glides through Tokyo. 

When he opens them, he sees that the harsh glare of Tokyo’s bustling business centers have faded to the background. Now they’re in Roppongi proper. Streetlights dot the corners of the roads. The stretch in the middle is black.

Everything is dark and soft and faintly warm. He thinks he’ll go to bed early tonight. 

Until he notices a human figure sitting in the entranceway to the subway. 

“Stop.” He alerts the driver right away. He needs to get a better look. 

Shido is certain they cracked down on the homeless problem here. He pushed through the legislation himself! Besides, from the looks of it, this person isn’t a simple vagrant.

The car comes to a stop. Shido cranes his neck from inside to get a better look. The person has sandy brown hair and seems to be wearing a high school uniform…

It can’t be. 

He has to make sure.

Gritting his teeth, Shido gets out of the car. He stands over the person, who has their head down. Chin hanging low against their chest. Knuckles bloody. This kid (definitely a kid) looks like he got the shit kicked out of him. 

“Hey,” Shido says. He nudges him with his foot. “Hey, you. You can’t sleep here.” 

Moaning, the person swings their head around. Tilting their face upwards. Eyes closed against the street lights. 

Oh for the love of—

He thought so! Shido thought he recognized this kid from the car and now that he can see his face clearly—goddamn it! 

What exactly does this kid think he’s doing. Shido can’t possibly let this slide.

“Akechi.” Glancing around to make sure no one is watching (thank god the neighborhood is quiet; the nearest house isn’t for another whole stretch of road), Shido kneels down next to him. Ignoring the grit of the concrete and the dirt. 

“Akechi. Wake up. What happened?” Shido puts a hand on his shoulder and gently shakes him. 

Akechi’s expression is dazed, in a way Shido has never seen before. He’s really out of it. His eyes roll open and he tries to focus on Shido’s face. “Sh…Shido?” he asks. Legitimately not sure. Blinking and frowning. 

“Yeah.” Who the hell else. “What happened to you?” 

Gaining clarity, Akechi flinches and hugs himself tighter. Swerving away from Shido’s touch. “Nothing. I’m fine. I…I’m just waiting for a cab.” 

“A cab? Out here?” Is the kid stupid? Cabs don’t come to this neighborhood at this time of night! 

Besides, how did Akechi wind up here in the first place? Who hurt him? 

For heaven’s sake, Shido told him to be careful! They can’t have anyone catching wind of Akechi’s connection to Shido! Not until after the election. It’s too risky! If Akechi doesn’t watch his ass out there, who knows what might happen. They can’t afford him getting mugged or harassed or anything like that. 

Shido glances up at the subway entrance. He tries to make eye contact with Akechi, but the kid is avoiding his gaze. “Did someone in the subway attack you? Were you threatened…?” (To be fair, it’s been years since Shido rode the subway. He thinks maybe the violence down there is worse than he thought! Who can say, these days.) 

To his chagrin, Akechi spits out a rude snort. Laughing. “No. And yes.” 

Now what on earth does that mean? Is he keeping secrets? 

This kid must have gotten hit pretty hard in the head to be keeping secrets from Shido of all people.

Unless…

The subway. That’s where Akechi goes on his missions, isn’t it? So then he must have made a careless mistake in that other world. 

It figures.

“Just leave me alone,” Akechi mumbles, holding onto the wall. “No need for Shido-san to trouble himself with my affairs. I’ll be fine…” 

He tries to stand. Hoisting himself up on the wall. No sooner does he make the attempt, then he slides back down to his knees. Legs wobbling. Gloved hands shaking. 

Rising to his feet, Shido says nothing. He’s already made a decision and he doesn’t need Akechi’s input for what comes next.

It’s not Akechi’s decision to make. This affects both of them. If someone sees Akechi out here, it’ll be a big story. They can’t have that. So, from here on out, Akechi has forfeited his say in the matter. 

Shido will take it from here. 

He bends down and wraps Akechi’s arm around his shoulder. The kid gasps loudly, right in Shido’s ear. His whole body clenches when he’s touched—are his injuries that serious? Maybe a trip to the hospital is in order…

Well. Not right away. Shido can always have his personal doctors take a look. Depending on how bad it really is. 

Shouldering his weight (mostly carrying him), Shido lifts Akechi to his feet. He tucks an arm around Akechi’s waist and walks him to the car.

“W-wait…can’t you just call me a cab?” Akechi says that, but he’s clinging to Shido for dear life. 

This kid. Always saying things he doesn’t mean. Acting tough. Smiling through the pain.

Really, this kid is just like his mother. In all the wrong ways (and some of the right ways too). Shido would have to be blind not to see it. 

He’s not blind. He’s not an idiot. He knows exactly who Akechi is and where he came from. He’s done the background checks, he knows everything that happened to Akechi from the moment he was born until now. He knows what this kid is to him. 

And so what? How many kids like Akechi are there in the world? A few, probably. Shido had his careless years. He expects he’ll be making several out-of-court settlements before his days are done. He even has a number in his head that he thinks will get the job done (2 million? 3 million at the most, that’s more than fair.) All people want in the end is money. 

Except Akechi, who is…

Here. Risking his life for Shido’s sake. Like he always does. Like it’s a normal thing.

So…

“Don’t talk anymore,” Shido orders. Opening the car door and setting him down on the seat. 

Gently. This kid’s head is broken enough as it is. No reason make it any worse. 

He swings around the other side of the car and sits down next to Akechi. Next to his son. 

“Drive,” he tells the driver. 

The car starts again. 

This is the first car ride they’ve ever taken together. Akechi has been inside Shido’s cars before, he’s given him rides here and there, but never together. The car is silent. The weight of who they are sits heavily between them. An uninvited third passenger. 

The night passes by outside the windows. Akechi is breathing heavily. Truncated. Coughing every so often. 

Wordlessly, Shido reaches over and presses the back of his hand to Akechi’s forehead. Checking for a fever. 

“Nnh…” Akechi tightens again. Squeezing his eyes closed. He’s trembling like a baby bird, waiting for something—waiting for pain, most likely. He looks like a guy bracing for a punch. What does he think is going to happen right now?

Well…

Shido scoffs and turns his hand over. Feeling Akechi’s temperature with his palm. 

Nothing. The kid’s forehead is cool. So, probably no internal injuries. He’s just a little beat up. 

Shido drops his hand. He looks out the window and says only, “You need to be more careful. I told you not to get sloppy.” 

“…sorry, Shido-san.” 

What use does Shido have for this boy’s ‘sorry?’ For his regret, for his self-abasement? It’s worthless! Shido hired Goro for one reason only: To get the work done. That’s all he needs this kid for. 

And the truth is: Goro is invaluable. With his unique skills. His mind. Goro has a calculating mind, similar to Shido’s own. They get along quite well. Their skills complement each other. Shido has resources and experience while Akechi has a curious sense of street-smarts and can easily predict people. Read them like a book. Guess what they might do next. 

So, Shido finds himself in a position where he has his most valuable chess piece, his trusted assistant, his precocious son, in the car next to him. Bleeding from his lip. Huddled in on himself like he’s afraid to get the car seat dirty with his presence.

“It’s fine,” Shido blurts out. Before he can think to stop the words. “Just make sure this is the only time. Understood?” 

Akechi is looking at him now. Shido doesn’t return the look, instead he continues staring out the window.  


As if the view could in any way compare to that of Akechi. 

“I will,” the boy says. 

“Good.” 

_______________________

Goro thinks he’ll just spend the night in the car. Or maybe once Shido goes in, he’ll have the driver take Goro back to his own apartment. That makes the most sense. 

Not that any of this is making any sense in his mind. Shido scooping him off the pavement and carrying him to his car. That’s not a thing that…should happen. Or would. In any case…

Here they are.

Goro flinches when Shido shuts the car door behind him. He closes his eyes as he waits to hear the man’s instructions to the driver, curling in on himself further. Feeling embarrassed more than anything that he found himself in this position—why did it have to be _Shido_ who found him! Why not anyone else? Tokyo is a big place! Why did it have to be the one person Goro hates the most, whom he wished would never, ever see him in such a compromising position. This gives Shido fuel for years—

When his own passenger door opens, he nearly jumps out of his skin. 

Shido is standing there, regarding Goro with a dispassionate look. “Let’s go,” he barks. 

“Go…where?” Goro asks dumbly, scrambling to his feet nonetheless (better not to make Shido repeat himself; that’s smarter in the long run). 

Sighing, Shido grabs Goro by the again. He just grabs him. Unashamed. Unafraid to lay hands on his body—

Tonight, this time and the time just earlier, is the first Shido has ever touched him. They’ve never even shaken each other’s hands. They’re not—! Goro thought it was a policy of mutual distance. He’s never been closer than half a meter to Shido. That’s not something they do! 

Since when is Shido comfortable touching him?

“Move your feet,” Shido instructs, letting Goro lean on him as they make their way into the building.

It’s a high-rise apartment building. This is…it’s impossible, but this must be where Shido lives.

Goro’s face turns red. He closes his mouth with an audible snap and says nothing. They’re going in the back entrance to this building—not the front entrance where there would certainly be a doorman or something. This looks like the service entrance. For vehicles and deliveries. Shido’s driver wags a card in front of a keypad and it unlocks for them automatically. Walking through a basement, Shido leads them to a freight elevator. 

Goro has a million sarcastic comments he wants to make right now, but he has a feeling none of them would land. Shido is clearly used to entering his own home this way. The discrete way, it seems. Because of course he is. 

The freight elevator takes them up to the fifth floor. As high as it will go. Shido casually escorts them to the full-service elevator, walking him through a corridor of small doors that read ‘supplies’ and ‘maintenance only.’ The full service elevator takes them all the way to the top. The twenty-second floor. 

Shido has to swipe the card again once they reach his door. But his is the only one on this floor. It’s a loft. The penthouse. 

Only he lives here. Only he could! 

The top of the top. That’s what Shido is. So that’s where he lives. 

The inside of the apartment is relatively nondescript. It looks like a showroom of a modern apartment. All the amenities, full floor-to-ceiling windows in the living room, expansive stone walls and hardwood floors. It’s big. As big as you’d expect. But it feels cold. As if, in a way, there’s no soul in this place. No heart. No one really living here. 

Shido carries Goro over to the couch and deposits him carefully. “Sit here. Don’t move,” he says. 

Goro says nothing. Biting back a pissy retort. 

He hates this, he tells himself. He really does. Who does Shido think he is, sweeping in like some kind of hero? What a joke! Shido is the villain, not the hero! He’s the villain in every story! The guy who’s only in it for himself! Who doesn’t care about anyone or anything except his own ego! He’s not brave or genuine or thoughtful. He probably only picked Goro up because he wanted to avoid the possibility of a big story in the newspaper. That’s all Shido ever thinks about. His fucking paranoia and his incomparable narcissism. The whole world revolves around him, so he doesn’t want Goro to be seen lest it reflect badly on him somehow! 

This asshole is so predictable—

“Here. Take this.” 

Goro looks up and sees that Shido is handing him a glass of water. Without hesitation, he takes it. He gulps the whole thing down in one go. He was dying of thirst! There was a sour cotton feeling in his mouth, the taste of being punched in the face. A little like vomit, bitter spit, and his own blood. Goro hates the taste. He’d drink anything to wash it down. 

“Better?” 

Wiping his mouth on the back of his hand, giving up on propriety, Goro eyes Shido as the man sits across from him on the other side of the couch. There’s a drink in his hand, naturally. There almost always is. Shido takes a sip of his liquor and turns on the television. It’s a huge flatscreen mounted to the wall above them. 

“It looks like the dry weather is past us and we’re heading into the wet season,” the newscaster says. “Don’t forget your umbrella out there tomorrow…”

Shido sets his drink down on the coffee table (it’s wrought iron, so there’s no chance he’ll damage it with the condensation, is that on purpose?). He turns back to Goro and beckons him closer. 

“Come here,” he says. “Let’s see what the damage is, kid.” 

…But…

Goro is frozen. He literally can’t move! Shido has never addressed him like that before—he wouldn’t! It sounds so foreign to his ears that Goro is sure he heard wrong! It’s hard enough to believe that Goro is even sitting on his couch right now. Nonetheless that Shido is asking him to come closer. 

He called him _kid._ Because to him, Goro is a _kid._

Whose kid is he, damn it? 

Clicking his teeth in frustration, Shido closes the distance himself. He sits next to Goro, very much in his space. Without asking, he holds Goro’s chin between his thumb and forefinger, turning his head side to side. Slowly. Inspecting the cut on his lip. 

They are close enough that Goro can feel Shido’s breath on his face. It scares the life out of him. He can’t breathe—he can’t think—what the fuck is Shido going to do to him right now—? 

“Just what the hell happened to you in there?” Shido asks. His voice is a low rumble. And his eyebrow…

His eyebrow is tilted downward. The left one. Just like—

Something inside Goro melts. He wants to hiss and spit in Shido’s face right now. He wants to push him away so hard that Shido gets mad and punches him in return! His skin is crawling and his guts are liquid. He wants to scream and he’s fairly certain there might already be tears in his eyes.

He can’t. He can’t possibly handle it if Shido looks at him like that. 

“Not telling, huh. Fine. Have it your way.” Letting go of Goro’s chin with a scolding nudge, Shido gets up. He goes to the kitchen and turns on the sink. 

Goro takes this time alone to try to collect himself. He fists his uniform pants and forces himself to take a deep breath (even though it hurts his chest). He needs to get his armor back up. He needs to be the prince right now. The likable one. The one Shido sees nearly every day and doesn’t give a shit about. He needs to be the person that doesn’t get hurt, that doesn’t really feel anything at all, the one with the impenetrable smile and a casual shake of the head. The prince is better at this! That’s why Goro created that persona in the first place! 

He needs to find it again. Right now. 

Shido reappears. He lays a few things on the coffee table. Goro sees a first-aid kit and a bowl of something. Water, maybe. Shido pulls a wet towel out of the bowl and wrings it out. Then, he promptly invades Goro’s space again.

“Hold still,” he commands. Still speaking on that low, bass-deep crackle. He never talks like this at work. In front of the camera. He’s always animated, knowing exactly how to project his voice. Right now, it feels…

A sound like this can only be heard at close distances. So this timbre is just for the two of them. Intimate. Unflinching. Straightforward. 

Goro finds himself breaking out into goosebumps as he listens to his father’s voice. 

This is bad.

Frowning in concentration, Shido wipes the blood from Goro’s lip. He says nothing when Goro jolts in response (both from the pain and the shock of being touched). He cleans Goro’s split lip and dips the washcloth in the bowl. The water is warm. His touch is gentle. Far, far too gentle. 

Shido doesn’t have a gentle touch. He doesn’t! Isn’t he rough with his women? Doesn’t everyone say that?! Or is that just the impression he gives? 

Goro is blinking back tears. He doesn’t have a reason why he’s crying. He never cries in front of other people. He can’t even remember the last time he cried at all! Maybe back when he was a little kid! Crying is pointless and Goro doesn’t have time for that shit. The tears feel weird in his eyes. They hurt. The force of summoning those tears costs his body physical energy, like he’s dragging something heavy. He feels the tip of his nose growing hot. His lips are tugging themselves into an awkward position. 

He won’t cry. No matter how gentle Shido is being with him! Pressing some ointment onto his cut with a touch that’s barely even there. His large fingers so precise and focused—Goro won’t cry!

“Why are you crying?” Shido asks. Not stopping. He takes Goro’s hands next. Smoothing away the blood and the grime. Scrubbing underneath his fingernails, giving those hands a quick massage as he works. 

“I’m not!” Goro shouts. Nothing at all like the prince. Nasty, rude. Like he never is with Shido. 

Shido pauses. Blinks up at him. “…Okay,” he says. Then he gets back to work, cleaning the cracks between Goro’s fingers. The bastard. 

Despite how hard Goro clenches his eyes, the tears leak out anyway. Roll down his cheeks in humiliating rivulets. He promised himself he wouldn’t! He would never cry in front of Shido! How could he let this happen?!

Goro is so ashamed of himself. He feels disgusting, weak, pathetic. He has to forcibly fight the urge to throw himself out the twenty-story window. Guaranteed death would be preferable to this! 

“Hm.” Shido makes a noise in his throat as he examines Goro’s right hand. That hand is more beaten up. Making some executive decision, Shido reaches into the first aid kit and pulls out a bandaid. He’s already applied ointment to all the places where Goro is bleeding, so he’s done more than enough—that bandaid is just excessive! 

Snatching his hand away, Goro growls between his teeth. “That’s enough!” he spits. “Why are you making such a big deal…”

Shido adjusts his glasses. His face is grimly serious. He finds Goro’s hand again, tugging it back, and lays the bandaid over the worst of the bleeding. 

More tears spill from Goro’s eyes. No one has put a bandaid on him in…when was the last time? As a boy, Goro figured out young how to put them on himself. Because his mom was always busy. Maybe she did it once or twice when he was really, really little…maybe, or maybe Goro saw it on TV and that’s how he learned.

So this is what it feels like. A warm explosion of feelings, dangerously soft and inexplicably content, right in the center of his gut. His core. Goro sits perfectly still as he tries to withstand the feeling. The sensation of being cared for. Cared about. He can’t move a single muscle—if he does, he’ll probably shatter into a thousand pieces. This is fragile business. This is an entire house built on a bed of glass. 

This is not okay. Goro is not okay. 

“Where else are you hurt?” Shido is not letting this go! 

“Nowhere,” Goro growls. The real answer: Everywhere.

Of course Shido doesn’t buy it. He lifts Goro’s chin with his fingers and examines his neck. Tugging back the collar of his shirt to peek underneath, following the path of the bruises—

That’s the line! 

Goro pushes Shido’s hands away. Covering himself up. He feels horribly exposed. Like Shido just undressed him and violated him in some way. It feels way too intimate what Shido just did. It has to be wrong! Goro didn’t say he could do that! 

But…it was just the collar of his shirt. Why does it feel like so much more? And why, even though there’s no way that could be alright, are Goro’s nipples hardening to the point of pain? So hard they must be visible from underneath his shirt? Prickling hard, sensitive. Sending some perverse message to the hot place between Goro’s legs. A place that’s also getting hard now…

Goro crosses his legs in a feeble attempt to hide himself. Shido has already seen way too much. He doesn’t need to see this too: 

The evidence that Goro is as fucked up as they come. That he’s been attracted to Shido since the moment he saw him. That he feels an electric kind of energy from this man, knowing the truth of their genetic relation, which doesn’t even factor into the things Goro feels when he looks at Shido. Or maybe it does. Maybe it’s the root of all this. Maybe the DNA inside of him is fucked up too. Or maybe it just doesn’t know how else to react. When it sees a man as objectively attractive as Shido, knowing that they have an invisible, unbreakable bond. Goro has wanted…

From the moment he met Shido, as a fifteen year old kid, desperate for a break, throwing all his eggs in one basket as he made Shido a crazy offer. That moment is seared into Goro’s head. Forever. Because at that moment, Goro suddenly got the biggest, worst hard-on of his life. Right there, standing in front of the father he was meeting for the first time. Goro wasn’t expecting it and he had to pull down his sweater to hide it, hoping it looked natural. 

He’s been hard for Shido ever since. Aching in the dead of night. Salivating over his smell. Touching himself to voice messages Shido carelessly left on his phone. To reruns of his speeches on the news. 

There’s no rhyme or reason to it. And if there is, Goro doesn’t want to know the details. It’s enough that he has to deal with this attraction on a daily basis. He doesn’t need to delve any deeper into his own depraved psyche! He just needs to…get over it! 

“Are those bruises?” Shido asks, heedless of Goro’s predicament. “How bad?” 

Unable to do more than curve his lips inward, Goro just shakes his head. 

Slowly, as if approaching a rabid animal, Shido gets close to him again. He turns Goro’s shoulder, guiding him to face him. 

If Goro wanted, he could stop this. Shido is being anything but rough with him! He doesn’t need to take this. Whatever the hell this is, Goro could end it all if he stood up right now and walked out! 

But, he doesn’t. He just sits there. Paralyzed. Letting Shido do as he wants.

Shido presses his fingers into Goro’s chests. Down, down. To his ribs. He runs his thumbs over the bones. Checking to see if they’re broken. They’re not. Just bruised. Goro got the wind knocked out of him. That’s all. 

Right now, Shido is doing a lot more damage with his soft touches than the Ose in Mementos ever could. Goro’s whole body twitches and he folds his arms over his lap. He’s fully hard right now. Even though he’s still in pain, even though he still has tears in his eyes. He’s hard and every sweep of Shido’s fingers only makes him harder.

“Hm, doesn’t seem to be serious,” Shido asserts. Dropping his hands at last. “I can give you some compresses if you want.” 

“I’m fine.” He’s not fine. But. 

“Alright.” Shido sits back, finding his drink again. Taking another long sip. “Anything else I should know about?” 

“Like what.” Goro’s face must be deathly pale right now.

“Other injuries, obviously.” Shido regards him one more time. “But I guess not. You seem fine.” 

At this point, Goro would love to know Shido’s parameters for making that call. Since he’s sitting there with a face full of tears, sort of transparently concealing an inappropriate boner. A complete wreck because of a washcloth and a bandaid. Undeniably. 

The craziest thing of all is that Shido doesn’t seem surprised. He’s not taken aback by Goro’s appearance. By his standoffishness. Even his tears! Goro thought Shido would be the kind of man who berates other people for emotional displays, but here is Shido. Casually strolling back to the kitchen to refresh his drink. Not mentioning it more than once! 

Goro looks at the bandaid on his hand. Stuck on with adhesive. Maybe, he thinks, he doesn’t actually know Shido at all. The real Shido. Because he genuinely doesn’t know who the hell this guy is that just patched him up. 

When Shido returns to the couch, he has two drinks. He offers one to Goro. It’s the exact same thing he has in his cup, smells like expensive whiskey. 

Without comment, Goro takes the drink. He doesn’t thank him. If he thanks him, he’ll probably dissolve into another fit of tears, and he just finally got them under control. So, he can’t risk any gratitude now. Instead, he sniffs the drink and takes a quick sip. It’s strong as fuck. No surprise there. 

It’s good. 

And so, the two of them sit together on the couch. Watching TV in silence. Drinking booze. The news is mundane and unobtrusive tonight. It’s not about politics. It’s not about the string of bizarre deaths that Goro has caused. It’s about a new coffee shop that opened in Ueno. Their attraction is elaborately decorative foam art, in the style of the paintings at the museum nearby. Boring, stupid, pointless stuff. 

They watch it together. It’s the weirdest, most ridiculous thing Goro has ever done. But you wouldn’t know that if you were on the outside looking in. 

At the top of the hour, two in the morning now, Shido rubs his eyes tiredly. He offers Goro the remote. “You can put on anything,” he says, taking off his glasses to scrub a hand over his face.

Goro declines. “No, that’s okay. I’m good.” 

Nodding, Shido turns off the TV. For a split second, Goro’s heart stops and he thinks Shido might be planning to kill him or something. Like he poisoned the drink and that was part of his plan all along! He was working Goro in circles, painting him into a corner. He has him right where he wants him, now it’s time to destroy the evidence of all his misdeeds—

“Are you going home tonight or staying here?” 

…That’s it? That’s all Shido wants to ask him right now? No reprimand? No warning? No angry dismissal? Not even a slap on the wrist? 

What game is Shido playing?! 

Pissed off and confused, Goro crosses his arms. “Am I allowed to stay here?” 

“What do you think? What did I just say?” Shido sounds angry, like usual, but mostly tired. He’s worn out. After all, he has been working the whole day. 

Even though they’ve been working together for years, Goro does not remember ever seeing Shido genuinely tired before. The guy really does work himself too hard. That can’t be good for his health, right? He doesn’t have a family or anyone to make sure he takes care of himself. So Shido can just work himself right into the ground without anyone uttering a word of protest. 

That’s kind of…sad. Goro’s never looked at it that way before. But he is now. Here, in his father’s penthouse apartment, wearing the bandaid that Shido put on him, Goro feels suddenly sad for him. 

Shido’s life is actually pretty shitty. Lonely, in a way. He’s surrounded by attention, but he’s far too paranoid to let anyone get close. He can have sex with whoever he wants, whenever he wants, but what does he really get out of that? Is it satisfying in a real way? 

Doesn’t Shido ever want something more? Will being prime minister really make him happy? Solve all his problems? 

A fifty-something-year-old man with lines of strain around his eyes. A toned body slumped in a couch after a tedious day of work. Shido is just a man at the end of the day. Like everyone else. He’s not a god or a demon. He’s just an angry, lonely guy. With even more complexes than Goro. 

“If you’re too tired to go home, then just stay here. There’s a guest room down the hall or you can crash on the couch. Makes no difference to me.” A guest room? For whom?! That’s hilarious. “Just make sure you set an alarm so you don’t oversleep. There’s work to be done tomorrow.” 

“…Right.” 

Sniffing hard, swallowing the outpouring of emotion he had before, Goro turns contemplative. He thinks. And thinks. Mind working rapidly. 

Maybe his plan to destroy Shido is stupid. 

After all, destroy _what_? Exactly what will Goro be destroying? He looks around the huge, empty apartment. This? What’s here to destroy? The only thing living here is Shido’s tremendous ego. A thing that doesn’t even take up physical space! The barrenness of this place gives Goro a chill. 

“Or I could just call my driver and he’ll give you a lift back to your place. It’s up to you.” Shido leans forward, ready to stand. Is he planning on going to bed? Like a…human being?

Well. Goro sits up straight, coming to a decision. If he’s not going to follow the original plan anymore, then he has to throw out the script and come up with something new. Something even more unsavory. Something that matches the sickness burning inside of him. An idea. An image of him sitting side by side the devil, wearing a crown of thorns.

What does he have to lose? Goro has already lost everything so many times. Tonight was just another one of those times. He might as well just…

Goro is tired of losing. He hates it. He wants to win. He wants to be on top, like Shido is. That man, with his eyebrows and his bandaids and his tired eyes and his sexy body! Goro wants—

“Thanks for the offer, Shido-san,” he chimes. Searching for the prince persona and finding something like it at last. “But I can’t let you take such good care of me without offering anything in return.” 

Shido frowns. Not following. 

“Isn’t there any way I can repay your hospitality?” Goro grins. As wide as the prince ever has. 

A tense moment passes. Goro’s smile actually twitches at the awkwardness of keeping it in place through such tenuous silence. 

Finally, Shido sighs. “What did you have in mind, Akechi.” 

It takes a special kind of mind to understand what’s going on in Goro’s head. It all depends on whether Shido is as perverse as Goro thinks he is.

“Well, you could ask me to do something for you. Something that you’ve been craving, maybe? Free of charge?” Goro chuckles. Waiting for Shido to fill in the gaps.

He doesn’t. Shido just raises an eyebrow like he expects Goro to elaborate.

Wow. Does he really not know? How could Shido not be able to read the signals Goro is putting down? 

Unless he just wants Goro to be the one to say it. 

Fine. Fuck it. As if Goro cares about the way the words sound! 

“I could suck you off. That’s one option.” Goro pauses. Letting that land. “If that’s something you’d be interested in. Really, I can do whatever you want. Just name it.” 

For once, Goro has the upper hand! Shido’s mouth parts in a neat line. Gaping at him. Whether he expected Goro to say that or not, he’s certainly shocked by the sound of the offer. Floating on the night air like the words weigh nothing. They don’t! They’re cheap and flimsy. Totally free. It cost Goro nothing to say them and he’s not feeling ashamed.

There’s no shame if he’s the one who holds all the cards. If he can get Shido to dance to his tune. If he can prove he has some immutable worth to Shido, then he’ll be the one to stand by his side once Shido rules the world. That place is obviously vacant at the moment. Goro will happily fill it. 

It’s got to be better than this. This pain. Running from memories and his own imaginings, unable to escape. Hurt again. Bleeding again. On the side of the road, again. He’s sick of that! 

Once Shido has no need for palaces, what will happen to Goro? He can’t lose everything he’s worked for. He can’t go back to what he was before! This night has made him remember too many things. Now Goro needs to make sure his future looks nothing like his past. 

He needs to prove his worth.

“I’m pretty good at it, I promise,” Goro continues. Laughing lightly, showing how casual this is. No strings attached, as Shido likes. “I’ve gotten rave reviews before for my performance.” 

Not responding, Shido turns back to his drink. He takes a slow sip and doesn’t look at Goro at all. 

Maybe he’s unpredictably shy. Maybe he hasn’t done it with boys before? Maybe he’s turning over the idea and it’ll take him a moment.

That’s fine. Goro can do more. “If that’s not what you want, then we’ll figure something else out. You can ask me to do all kinds of dirty things. I can give you a massage. Or lick your feet. Or lick you anywhere, whatever gets you off. You can finger me or make me wear something humiliating…” He giggles, prattling on and on. 

How much will it take to break Shido? If Goro keeps pushing? And pushing and and pushing and pushing and pushing…

“…I don’t mind! You can even fuck me if you want, Shido, if you’ve been pent up lately. I’ll prepare myself beforehand so it’ll be like what you’re used to. Unless you like it tight, in which case you can just fuck me raw. Right here. I can take it, you’ll see—”

“Alright, enough.” Setting his drink down with a dull thud, Shido holds up a hand to stop Goro’s word vomit. He doesn’t look disturbed or turned off. Or even turned on, for that matter. 

He just looks tired. 

Taking a deep breath, Shido looks at him again. Meets his gaze. Eye to eye, they stare at each other. Goro thinks he has his mask firmly in place, but when Shido looks at him…he can’t feel it anymore. He feels manic. Out of control. Desperate. Heart racing. Hands shaking.

He wants something so bad right now.

But he actually has no idea what it is. 

His lips tremble. His smile turns into something deformed. _Safe_ , he wants. Safe. Warm. Home. Hands. Eyebrows. Thumbs. Mouth. Words. 

Goro wants all these things but the words make no sense strung together. He’s about to scream, to jump out of his own skin because he can’t bear the sheer chemical adrenaline coursing through his veins. He’s about to have a heart attack—

“Fine, then.” 

Keeping their eyes locked, Shido undoes his belt. Slides it away and tosses it to the floor. He spreads his legs wide. Unzipping his fly, he sticks his hand inside his pants and starts fondling himself.

Just like that, Goro is on fire. He’s watching Shido masturbate in front of him and it’s the most intense fucking sexy thing Goro has ever seen! The manly way Shido handles himself, comfortable and practiced with his fifty-some-odd years of experience. Hand working in his pants like an old pro. 

Fuck, that’s hot. All of Goro’s fantasies rush to the surface and he wants—

The side of Shido’s mouth ticks up in a smirk. He tilts his head to one side, observing Goro’s reaction with interest. Then, without any preamble—completely unashamed—he whips out his cock. Casually, as if he’s just taking out his watch to check the time. Shido exposes himself to Goro and sits there, half-hard cock lolling in his lap. 

He’s huge. That’s the main thing. Everything else…there is nothing else. Shido’s cock is big and thick, as intimidating as Goro imagined it would be. It wants for nothing. 

“Well?” Shido beckons Goro closer, hand suspended in between his spread legs. “Aren’t you going to do it? You made the offer so confidently, I thought you were serious.” 

“I was serious,” Goro rushes to say. Oddly defensive. “I’ll do it.” 

He leaps to knees. Perhaps too quickly for his ruse to hold much water. He’s presenting this as a tit-for-tat kind of favor, but he’s swallowing mouthfuls of saliva. Drooling. Licking the edges of his mouth so drool doesn’t escape. 

Goro wants this cock in his mouth. He wants it there so bad! So bad he feels like his brain is doing somersaults, agonized and sensitized all at once.

Inching himself between Shido’s legs, Goro bites back a moan when he’s face-to-face with Shido’s cock. Something hot and prickly runs down the inside of his chest. An itchy kind of want. Goro is so, so glad he finally got to see Shido! The real him! This is him, right? This is his father’s cock! There can’t be any more subterfuge after this! How much more real can it get?

Shido’s cock is fucking beautiful. That’s the real goddamn truth. 

Grinning wildly, Goro rubs it against his cheek. The musky, bitter, earthy smell goes right to his head. He feels dizzy. He can already taste it, even though he hasn’t put his mouth on it yet. His own body quivers, shaking with excitement. He can’t believe he’s doing this! Finally! His mouth is hot and wet and waiting—

He lays his lips against the tip of Shido’s cock. Resting them there. Relishing the press of tender flesh. His lips are soft and Shido’s cockhead is velvet. The union is very sensual. Goro loves it.

“Go on,” Shido urges. “Let’s see this performance you were talking about.” 

Fine, fair enough. Forcing himself out of his reverie, Goro opens his mouth wide. Making sure Shido can see all the way inside. Get a good look. Then he slides Shido’s cock all the way in. Inch by painstaking inch. Of course Shido’s girth stretches his jaw as wide as it will go. But Goro is instantly addicted to the sensation. He wants Shido to stretch him. This is what he wanted since the moment they met! It feels natural for Shido to be inside him. For Goro’s desperate, aching body to hold Shido tightly. Trapping him. Holding his manhood close, never letting it go. 

Goro sucks him good. He moans and bobs his head. His tongue plays along the curves and ridges of Shido’s cock. Flicking teasingly against the slit. Hard, then soft. Fast, then slow. He takes Shido all the way to the back of his throat, swallowing him to the root. When he realizes…

Shido isn’t fully hard yet. If anything, he’s getting softer. Not rising to the occasion.

Panic flutters inside Goro’s chest. He pulls away for a moment and asks, “Everything alright?” 

Shido scoffs. “Who said you could stop,” he replies. Not giving a real answer. “Keep going.” 

Uncertain, confidence wavering, Goro takes him in his mouth again. He doesn’t know why Shido isn’t getting hard, but…for Goro, this still feels fucking amazing. Even flaccid, Shido’s cock is full and heavy. A real mouthful. Sucking it is like sucking on a huge marshmallow. It’s insanely satisfying. 

Well, satisfying, and…

Goro’s hand sneaks in between his own legs. He’s so turned on. He doesn’t want to touch himself in front of Shido (especially not while he’s giving him head as a favor!) but he also can’t bear not to! He presses his palm into his rock hard dick and moans like a slut. Muffled by the weight of Shido’s cock in his mouth. 

It feels so fucking good. Goro’s hips stutter upwards, meeting his own hand. He needs to go slow. Slow, slow! Otherwise he might just cum in his pants right here. And Goro can’t think of anything more humiliating than that! 

“How’s that?” Shido rumbles. That dark, intimate voice again. “You like it?” 

Oh, god, that voice does something to Goro. It sets his insides to a slow boil. It goes right to his cock and makes it twitch. Shido could probably get Goro off right here, just by talking to him. By speaking to him in that low tone. 

Goro squeezes his own dick, batting away the insistent urge to cum.

A hand brushes down the side of his face. Shido’s hand. Shido strokes him, thumbing the place where his soft cock slips messily in and out of Goro’s mouth.“Yeah, you were right,” he murmurs. “You know just how to take it. Like a good boy.” 

“Mmm!” The high-pitched whine that escapes Goro’s mouth is inhuman. He feels like he got hit by lightning—that! How dare Shido say something like that to him! How dare he…it feels too good…it feels like Goro’s brain is turning to mush. The only thing he can focus on is Shido’s cock in his mouth, pillowy and floppy like a lewd plaything. Goro wants to suck and suck, to play with this cock forever!

He wants Shido to pat his head and tell him he’s doing a good job. He wants Shido to let him sit in his lap. Close. Closer than anyone’s ever been! He wants Shido to hold him and say he’s a good boy. _His_ boy! 

He sucks harder. The more he sucks, the more difficult it becomes for Goro to deny himself. To deny his orgasm, his feelings. Everything is threatening to spill out. Uncontrollably, like a flood breaking through a dam. 

He’s so close to cumming—! 

But frustratingly enough, Shido is nowhere near close. If anything, he’s gotten even softer! He’s nearly lost his erection completely! He’s just pushing rope into Goro’s mouth, rocking his flaccid cock in and out of Goro’s mouth like that’s how it’s supposed to be. 

What’s going on. 

Horrifyingly, it barely matters. The slide of Shido’s velvet cock is enough to get Goro there. That much has become clear.

“I think that’s enough,” Shido says suddenly. Guiding Goro’s mouth off of him, wiping away a line of drool. Surprisingly considerate. 

Goro stares up at him stupidly. Jaw locked open. Still touching himself shamelessly. Moments away from climax. Unable to comprehend the reason why Shido is tucking his soft penis away in his pants. Like he’s actually finished. Like he got anything close to what he needed! 

How could this be?! How could Goro have failed so completely?! 

“Wha…” He swallows around the loose spit, forcing his mouth to work again. “What…happened? What’s wrong?” 

Shido’s mouth twitches in amusement. He reaches into his pocket and pulls out a pack of cigarettes. “What do you mean? Isn’t this what you wanted?” 

He gives Goro his lighter and leans forward, cigarette perched between his lips. Motioning for Goro to light it for him. Hands shaking, mind gone, Goro struggles feebly to flick the lighter on. But he manages it. 

Shido leans back and exhales a thick cloud of smoke. “You said you wanted to suck me. So you sucked me. Feel better now?” 

“I…!” This unimaginable asshole! “I…didn’t say that! I said I would do it for you as a favor! I didn’t—this wasn’t—!” Eyes bulging, Goro punches the hardwood floor to keep from punching Shido in the face. “This wasn’t for me, you bastard!!” 

Shido smokes languidly. Taking in Goro’s reaction with aplomb. “Is that so?” He exhales, gesturing with his chin in the direction of Goro’s lap. “What’s that, then?”

Burned, Goro presses both hands over his obvious erection. Shido definitely saw it. The way Goro was touching it. He probably saw the wet patch on the front of Goro’s pants too. 

Deeply ashamed, as red as a cherry tomato, Goro clenches his thighs together. “…it’s nothing…” He’s lost his bravado. Now he’s as quiet as a mouse. 

Goddamn Shido. With his mind games! What’s wrong with him?! Can’t he get hard anymore? Shouldn’t he be the one who’s embarrassed?! Why isn’t he making some excuse about why he couldn’t get it up? Like he’s tired, it’s been a long day, he had too much to drink. Anything! Something! Some kind of buffer to save both their egos! 

Instead, Shido makes no excuse at all. He just exhales smoke and shakes his head. Softly grinning. “It’s not nothing. Come on. Come sit up here with me.” 

Near tears again, thoroughly and in every way destroyed, Goro does as he’s told. He sits next to Shido and holds his hands between his legs. Awkward, clumsy. Pride in tatters. Feeling like a little kid.

If he can’t even make Shido hard, how the hell is he going to prove his worth? How is he going to earn a place here? If he doesn’t think of something fast, Shido will just get rid of him! Without a second glance! He’ll throw him back to the curb. Like all the rest…! 

“Now, now. Don’t sulk.” Shido sticks his cigarette into an ashtray. Then he holds Goro’s face in both hands. 

He presses their foreheads together. Against Goro’s lips, he whispers, “You’re cute when you sulk, but you’re even cuter when you’re pissed off.” 

With that, he kisses Goro on the mouth. Soft, but with real force. Shido, it seems, is an expert kisser. He slots their mouths together with ease, bearing down on Goro in all the right ways. 

This is warm. This is close. This is just what Goro wanted! 

This. A kiss.

He kisses Shido back. He’s not sure of his own kissing technique (he doesn’t have much practice here) but he gives it his all. He wraps his arms around Shido’s neck and lets Shido take the lead. 

“There you go,” Shido rasps. His mouth tastes like cigarettes and booze. “Relax. That’s the one thing I’ve never seen you do. Just relax.”

He’s right. Goro is never relaxed. The closest he ever comes is when he’s sitting in a bar somewhere listening to music. But even then, Goro is in public. He has to have his mask on. 

But in Shido’s arms, right now, Goro feels like putty. He doesn’t know what to say. How to act. What to do. He just wants Shido to keep kissing him. 

And Shido does. 

“Lean back for me,” he says. And Goro follows those directions too.

Right now, he would do anything Shido wanted. He’s floating on cloud nine. His dick is hard enough to go off any second, so hard it actually makes him dizzy. But he doesn’t care anymore. His body is totally in tune to Shido. Every slide of his hands, every brush of his lips. 

When Shido’s hand snakes down to touch Goro’s aching length, Goro moans so hard he can feel the walls shake. He claws Shido’s shoulders, grabbing fistfuls of his crisp white shirt. Utterly helpless. Driven to the point of climax with nothing more than the weight of Shido’s hand, pressing down on him softly. Softly, softly—

“Ahh!” Unable to hold back anymore, Goro cums. He cums _hard_ , releasing all his pent up rage and desperation and need. Right into his pants, into his Shido’s waiting hand. He soaks himself, revealing his own truths in plain language. His own depravities. The things he’s been trying to hide. 

The force of that climax is like an earthquake. Goro jolts forward, burying his face in Shido’s neck. Clutching him with all the strength he has left. Cumming and cumming. Shido keeps his hand there, letting Goro cum as much as he can. Until he’s actually empty. Until the couch is wet underneath them. 

He came way too hard. 

There’s no way to come back from a climax like that…how the hell is Goro supposed to try? He feels so defeated! Shido won! Whatever game this was, whatever move he made…Shido won. Without any shadow of a doubt. 

Goro must have lost again. 

He’s so upset he actually bites the fabric of Shido’s shirt. The tears are flowing nonstop now. He can’t stop them! Goro cries and cries, sniffling like a toddler. Wet from the waist down. Undone, unmanned. Reduced to a sniveling pile of snot. 

Why does he always have to lose? 

“There.” The black velvet of Shido’s voice covers Goro like a blanket. “That’s what you really needed, isn’t it?” 

What…? 

What does Shido mean? 

What he needs—why is Shido thinking about what Goro needs right now? 

Beyond the point of self-awareness, Goro looks up at his father. He sees the man smiling down at him. That same smug grin. But this time, it looks slightly warmer. Satisfied in a way Shido never is. A look of distant happiness…is Shido capable of such a thing? 

As if in answer, Shido wraps his arms around Goro and tucks his head underneath his chin. Cradling him. Holding him gently, letting Goro get comfortable in his lap. Not minding the mess or the awkwardness. Just holding him. Like he’s not ashamed to do it; to hold his son.

…Is Shido really past shame? Is his pride so large that he wouldn’t blush even at something like this?

“Why don’t you stay the night.” It’s not really a question. But Shido says it like it is. He smoothes his hand down the back of Goro’s head. Letting him hide against his neck. 

Goro takes the offer. He squeezes himself as close to Shido as he can. Warm, finally. Safe. In a place that he doesn’t know if it can last, or what it even really means, why this space is allowed to exist in the first place.

But he’s happy. Terrifyingly happy. In defiance of reality. 

“…Okay,” he says at last. “I’ll stay.” 

He will. He’ll stay forever. As long as he can. Wherever Shido goes. Wherever Shido wants him. 

All the way to hell. If they get there. Or maybe heaven. 

Or maybe just home. 

~~End~~

**Author's Note:**

> Make sure to check out the event on twitter using #papaakeweek :)!


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